May God guide you
by Starfish1.618
Summary: 15 year old Sophie Nevu has no idea about her lineage. after the death of her grandfather, Jacqueis Suniere, she lives in Italy with the Camerlengo and a monk named Silas, placed there under child services with recommendation by family friend Robert Langdon. When Illuminati strikes against the pope, Sophie must help save the church, preferiti, and discover a shocking secret.
1. Chapter 1

I DO NOT OWN THE ROBERT LANGDON SERIES. I also apologise if the characters seem a little (or a lot) OC. I will try to keep them as much as they were like in the book as possible. Also, I apologise for the short chapter. the next one should be longer, I promise! I hope you enjoy! Rate, Reveiw, leave a comment if you'd like! constructive critisism welcome. all that said, ON TO THE STORY!

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**Chapter one**

**_SOPHIE'S POV_**

The house was cold when I woke up. It's cold, and silent, and, when I finally manage to creep barefooted into the kitchen, I find that it's empty. The AC is running at 67 degrees, and given that I originate from a warmer climate, it's no wonder I'm freezing. A paper flutters in the blowing air, it's taped to our stainless steel fridge. My name is written on it in slanted handwriting, almost completely disregarding the pale blue guidelines already on the paper.

_Good morning, Sophie._

_Silas and I are at the Vatican, he decided to come with me today. You're welcome to come as well, seeing as it's the first day of summer, but please phone one of us first, so we'll know you're coming. The chores are done, have a good first day of break! We'll be home around 3:30. _

_-Patrick_

That's right, it's the first day of summer. Three glorious months off from school, just for me to relax and spend some time with my family. Speaking of which…

I sneak a glance at the clock over the stove. It's 8:30, and Father Patrick said I could go to the Vatican today, which probably means he has next to nothing to do on his schedule. _That's a surprise,_ I think to myself as I spread some peanut butter on some toast. With his job as Camerlengo for the Pope, (which, as much as I understand it, is kind of like being a personal secretary for the Pope) he rarely gets off time when he's in the office. But the fact that Silas went and I'm invited to go means he has next to nothing to do today. I rise, and toss my paper plate and napkin in the trash can underneath the sink. Gulping the last of my coffee, I place the now empty mug advertising the flying spaghetti monster creating the world "with one touch of his noodle-y appendage." Breakfast done, I sprint back upstairs for a shower, and wiggle into jeans and a nice-ish shirt with some Converse. Dirty blonde hair is wrangled back into a braid and a small amount of makeup is applied. (hey, when it's the Vatican, a girl wants to look kind of nice.) I reach up a hand and touch the gold locket that hangs at the base of my throat. It holds a picture of my father, mother, and brother, who were killed in a car crash when I was four.

Downstairs, the grandfather clock bongs 9:30. Hearing the chimes, I grab my phone and rush out the door, already dialing Silas.


	2. The Call

Chapter two! Yay~  
and I swear I wrote more this time. I checked. SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. I was at the beach for the last four days, got seriously sunburned. I also couldn't access any WI FI. So, on to the disclaimer:

I DO NOT OWN THE ROBERT LANGDON SERIES.

And here we go...

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**Chapter two**

**_SILAS'S POV_**

I'm alone in the main hall when the phone rings. Normally, I don't carry a cell phone, but because Sophie is home alone, Patrick told me that I should carry mine. Pulling it out of the pocket of my robe, I check the tinted screen- and yes, it's her. Pressing the button to accept the call, I lift it to my ear. "Yes?" I say, and hear the 15 year olds bubbly voice respond. "Silas? Hey, it's Sophie." "Hello, Sophie. I take it you're up?" I smile into the phone as I say it. She must have dragged herself out of bed to be up at this hour. "I'm up and moving." I hear her confirm. "I got the note that Father left. He said that I should call to tell one of you two that I was coming." "And are you?" I ask. "Are you kidding? This is the Vatican I've just been invited to. Of course I'm going!" I laugh, imagining her face, full of the same sarcastic humor that's already leeching through to her voice. "And you know the way to the Camerlengo's office?" "_Oui_," Sophie responds. "Then I will see you soon." I said. "Okay," she says. "Bye, Silas. Be safe!" and with that, she hangs up, undoubtedly already skipping her way to here.

"Be safe." I whisper into the empty receiver. It's what she always used to say to me, and still does. A reminder, a plea, to please, please, _sil vous plait, _don't go into my room and hurt myself with the Cilice and the Discipline to make myself suffer as He did. It took a long while for the urges, to stop, but they did, finally. Although I do not use the Discipline anymore, I still wear the Cilice around my leg. It is my reminder, ma atonement for what I did in my past. And Sophie isn't scared to hug me anymore. I smile when I think of that. For a long time, she wouldn't hug me, instead opting to touch my arm or shoulder, for fear of hurting me by the scars on my back. One day, I hugged her fiercely, to her delight, and from then on, she hugs me like she does Patrick, which makes me happy. Taking long strides, I turn and head in the direction of the Camerlengo's chambers. I pass several Priests in the sparsely crowded hallways, one stopping to exchange a quick "Hello, Silas. On your way to see the Camerlengo?" in return, I nod, and give him a quick, small smile. The priest bobbles his head absently and murmurs something about getting a coffee before wandering back down the hall. Quickly, I keep moving, moving down another hallway and through an archway before finding his chambers. I lift one pale, strong hand to knock, and have just barely scraped my knuckles on the rough wood before the door's heavy iron handle creaks and it pulls open.

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**_PATRICK'S POV_**

When I hear the footsteps stop, I'm right beside the door. It's okay, though. I'd recognize that limping, irregular gait anywhere. Gripping the iron handle, I yank until the door begins to swing open. Sure enough, it's Silas, the albino Opus Dei monk that stays with me, and Sophie, too. I smile at him. "Silas!" I welcome him in with a thick Scottish accent. "Father." He replies, the tips of his lips quirking into a rare smile as he saunters into the room. He looks at me with mild amusement. "Sophie called." He said, holding up his silver Blackberry. "I wasn't expecting a ring this early." I blinked at him. "She's coming? She's awake?" He nodded. One hand, stark against the deep brown contrast of his habit, lifted to rub the back of his white hair. I grin at him. "Well, it's alright. I've finished with the work today and the Pope gave me a rest day. I believe his exact words were 'why don't you invite your girl Sophie and that fellow Silas over to keep you some company today?'" I laugh as I think of it. It was kind of him to let me bring them, today. Like a father would allow a son to invite friends over to a house. Silas's face goes grim at the mention of His Holiness. "How is he?" he asks softly, knowing it's a touchy subject for me. And it's no wonder- the pope is ill, and I, as well as several of the doctors, am worried about his long term health. In loss for words, I just shake my head and say softly, "I don't know." To give myself something to do, I move over to a small refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water, lifting it to Silas in a silent offer. "Yes, thank you." he says, so I step back over to hand it to him. Together we sit on a set small sofas in an adjoining room, him on one close to the wall, and I on one to face the door. We keep our quiet discussion going until the phone rings in the other room. Swiftly, I rise, and move over too it, staring at the black device stationed on the desk, labeled only "Pope." My shoulders drop. _He told me not to expect any calls today. So that means… _swallowing the dread that suddenly crawled its way up from my stomach, I lift the phone to my ear with a slightly shaking hand. "This is the Camerlengo." I said in as calmly a voice as possible. "How can I help you?" "Padre," came the voice, I recognized him as the head doctor for the pope, speaking in rushed Italian. " It is the pope. His Holiness is dying, and he requests you to be there." There is only one thing for me to say. "Tell him I'll be right there. Thank you." Without waiting for his reply, I nearly throw the phone back onto the receiver and whirl to face Silas. His red eyes glimmer in the light. "I'll wait here for her." He promises, and I barely manage to nod before rushing from the room, nearly running to the hospital quarters.

Already, the question is running through my mind.

_Who will succeed him?_

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_And so we have the death of the Pope! Sophie's going to show up in the next chapter, and maybe (MAYBE) a Mr. Langdon will also make an appearance. rate, reveiw, See you all soon!_


	3. The slip that set the wheels in motion

**Chapter three**

**_SOPHIE'S POV_**

As I walk through the silent halls of the Vatican, heading to the Camerlengo's chambers, I'm struck by how eerily silent the halls are. Normally, there's a soft murmur of voices, the distant sounds of Catholic Mass, of priest praying, and of psalms for the Lord. But today, I can barely hear the wind chimes that dangle in several of the windows, as though the wind itself has deemed that it's unable to pass through this building like normal. It scares me. I don't like, how, this gilded golden building, so bright and lovely and-_happy_- on the outside, can turn into a monastery so dark and silent and scary on the inside, a side of this sacred place that you never see.

So I'm left with the feeling that something horrible has happened. _No, _I tell myself. _Sophie, stop being stupid. The priests are in Mass, that's all, in another wing, on another floor. _But I can't stop the fear that's trickling down my spine, and, in a sudden urge to be with someone, _anyone,_ I burst into a sprint, despite the strict NO RUNNING rule that is enforced here. Panting, I tear through the hallways, taking turns with skids, and barely managing to stop every time I think I hear footsteps. My heart is racing, pounding like my feet on these smooth, shiny floors. And at last,_ at last!_ I can see the Camerlengo's door, and I put on a burst of speed, gasping to get there before the shadows that are chasing me in my head can. In a sudden act of gracefulness, I manage to trip over something lying in the hallway, and land in a heap just a mere few feet from the door. There's a moment of shock, and then several parts of my body begin to hurt all at once. _Ow._ I pick myself up, examine myself. My elbow is bruised, I can already tell, and there may or may not be a lump the size of an egg on my head tomorrow morning. Several strands of my hair hang limply from its braid, and my face feels flushed. _So much for looking nice for the Vatican_, I inwardly grouse to myself, and tuck some of the strands back into the weave, away from my face. _If I hadn't tripped, I'd probably-_ wait a second. Swinging my head from side to side, I sweep the floor for any signs of what I may have slipped on. _There!_ Lying on the ground is a sheet of white paper. Emblazoned on the other side is some sort of black print in large, bold letters. Crouching, I pick it up. Flipping it over, it only takes a second for my brain to process the single, very large word printed on the paper in some sort of strange calligraphy. _Illuminati? What the heck? _ For a moment, I ponder the word. _To illuminate means to bring light. So illuminati… some sort of light bringers? _Initial fear of the halls forgotten, I sit on the ground and stare at the paper in my hands. _What does it mean? _ And to be honest, I probably would have sat there forever, if it hadn't been for the soft groan that came from the room in front of me. _Patrick?_ Rising, I pad softly towards the door, holding my breath to erase sound and therefore to listen harder. There's small sounds, they sound like hiccups, almost. There's a voice, too, one that I recognize, speaking in quiet French even though the listener probably understands nothing. But I do. "_It's going to be alright, Father." _I hear in my native language. "_He had a good, long life, full of service to the Lord. And he will be remembered, as well. He was a good father of the Church. No one can doubt that." What are they talking about? They sound like someone died._

The last two words hit me like a truck.

SOMEONE. DIED.

_Oh my God._

Deciding to not lean against the door anymore like the newly become stalker I am, I knock, once, twice, three times. Inside, the hiccupping sound stops, and I can hear a murmur of low voices. Then, louder , "just a minute, please." It's the Camerlengo's voice, and I find myself relaxing already, though I can't hide the fear in my mind. The door swings open- just a crack. "Sophie?" A rushed, cracked whisper makes its way to my ears and I reply likewise. "O_ui._" With no other words, the door swings open, and I step inside, the illuminati paper clenched tight in my fist.

"Silas? Father? What's going on?"


	4. the Veiwing of the Video

I must admit, this was not my best chapter. And for that, I'm sorry. Have any of you read Inferno yet?

It's amazing. Dan Brown does not dissapoint.

shoutout time:  
**icanhearthedrums:** you, my friend, are a marvel. you have left a reveiw for all three of my chapters and have made my writer world go round. I can only hope the rest of my readers are as good as you. also, YOUR USERNAME IS AMAZING. vote Saxton.

now that i've finished creeping people out, I can do the Disclaimer:

I do not own the Robert Langdon Series.

enjoy!

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**Chapter four**

**_SILAS'POV_**

****Sophie's face looks flushed. That's the first thing I notice as she steps into the room, burgundy shirt a little rumpled and dark jeans caught around her converse. Her eyes are wide, _she looks frightened, _I note to myself. Her question hangs in the air, unanswered. I shoot a concerned glance towards Patrick, who's sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, murmuring softly to himself. He raises his head, to look at Sophie and I standing by the door with bloodshot eyes. "Sophie." He says in a cracked voice. "The Pope-the-the Pope is dead." She staggers a step towards me and raises shocked eyes -to my face. "Is," is all she manages to get out. I nod. "It's true." I say softly. She sinks onto the couch by Patrick and sighs. "Oh_ God." _She whispers in French. "_Oh dear God."_ Sophie leans into Patrick and wraps her arms around him. "I'm so sorry." She says quietly. He engulfs her in a hug and says "it's okay. He had a good long life." I step over and place a hand on her shoulder. She leans into me and takes a deep breath. "What now?" she asks, sounding very much like the small child that had first come to live with us. Patrick stands, eyes red, but stands tall and firm, already assuming the role of the man in charge of the church, as he had been told to, now that the acting Pope is dead. "Now the Cardinals will come and hold conclave to elect the next Pope." He says. The three of us look at each other until a knock sounds at the door. Father Patrick crosses to the door and it opens with a loud creaking sound. In the door way stands the hulking form of Commander Richter, the head of the Swiss Guard. Upon seeing the Camerlengo, he touches Patrick's wrist and murmurs something in soft Italian. Patrick smiles-a sad, though soft, smile- and says something in return before gesturing inside. Richter shakes his head, and says, in slightly accented English, "No thank you, _Padre, _but you must see something right away. Please, come with me to my office." Patrick looks taken aback for a moment, and then says, "Silas and Sophie, can they come as well?" The burly man nods and strides from the doorway. Silently, Patrick waits until we step outside the threshold and closes the door behind us. Then, Sophie and I exchanging wary looks, we follow the Commander down the hallway to his office.

**_PATRICK'S POV_**

I'm still numb from seeing the Pope die. Honestly, even though I've said the necessary prayers, and rendered his seal unusable, ever since I heard the Pope officially declared "Dead,"

I still can't get over the shock.

Now, I'm reeling from what the Commander said to me earlier. "_You must come quickly. The cardinals are in danger!"_ _How?_ I ask myself. _How can they be in danger_? _We barely released the official death of the Pope two hours ago!_ But still, I find myself unsurprised. _Things like these have happened before, _I remind myself. This is not the first time someone has struck against the Church and in such quick time after the death of one so prominent. We follow Commander Richter down two hallways and a flight of stairs before we reach a glass door, which he opens. There are several Swiss Guard members scurrying about, barking orders to each other. They all look very tense. I shoot a look back at Silas and Sophie, and smother a chuckle. Silas, with his menacing lope and haunted eyes, not to mention (how do I put this in another's eyes…) _strange_ appearance, has already managed to draw several suspicious stares towards himself. Sophie gazes discreetly around with wide-eyed curiosity. She looks pale, her fists are clenched. I notice a flash of white peeking out from under her curled fingers and remind myself to ask her about it when we have the time. Ahead of me, Richter opens a wood door with a polished handle and moves inside, shutting the door behind us. There is a computer quietly humming on the desk. He nudges the mouse and the screen flickers to life, bathing the room in glowing blue light. There's a play button in the center of the screen, and he hesitates before he looks at us. "What I'm about to show you is shocking." He warns. "Please be ready for that." Silas nods at me, and I say, "I'm ready, Commander Richter." Sophie, still pale, nods uncertainly at us and says, "_Sil vous plait,_ Commander, play the movie. Before we decide to back out." With all our approval, Richter clicks the button.

What I saw astounded me.

" we have captured your four preferiti…" a heavily accented Italian voice spoke as images of the primary Cardinals for Pope showed on the screen, behind bars, squinting into a flashlight, all sullen, pale, a voice in the background praying in Italian. "_Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death…"_ the Italian man who ran the video warned that the first would show at eight, and that afterwards, on the hour, every hour, another would be killed.

I felt sick.

"Who would have done this?" I say angrily to the Commander, feeling helpless. "HOW-could this have been let to happen? And now we must save them before they are all killed!" "We don't know yet who sent us this video," Richter begins calmly, before he is cut off by the very last person I would have expected.

Sophie.


	5. The Aftershock

Hello!

okay, first off- I AM SO SORRY. I had no intention of staying off fanfiction for such a long time but I've been so busy! between waking up early every day to train for the triathlon and Weapon tryouts for marching season, plus summer reading and the working hours I've been trying to get in for a Bright Futures thing for my school, I've been whupped. But yeah. A friend of mine took me to sweet swirls on a whim and now my tummy is sticking out far and I feel incredibly fat. (Hahah) and then my brain got to me and was like "**go write your flippin' story,Andie!" **

and here I am now.

this chapter is short, but i tried to crank it out to get farther along the story. a mention of Robert now, HOORAY!

whoops-_spoilers_

**_I do not own this series. carry on_**

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**Chapter five**

**_SOPHIE'S POV_**

"Um, Commander Richter?" I ask, stepping forward. "I found something that may help…" I hold out my hand, the crumpled Illuminati paper in the center of my palm. The bulky man takes the paper from me and unfolds it, smoothing out the edges. I see his lips form the word Illuminati and he goes pale. With no warning, he lunges forward and grabs my arm roughly, demanding, "Where did you find this!" "O-outside Father's doorway!" I stammer, and wince. _His grip hurts! _Silas growls, deep in his throat, and I give him a startled glance. But the noise reminds Commander Richter of something, and he lets go off my arm with an abashed look. "Sorry" he mutters, and I nod. "It's okay," I whisper. Formalities complete, he bends over the paper and begins to mutter to himself. "Outside the door?" he checks with me, and I affirm. "_Oui." _ The commander straightens without another word. Turning to face us, he looks each of us dead in the eye. "Father Patrick… we know who sent the video to us." He says, and I feel dread in my stomach. "But I don't understand." I say, and look at Silas, who's standing by the Commander. "Who are the Illuminati? Why strike against the Church?" Silas, however, won't meet my eyes. "Sophie…" he says quietly. "Remember Opus Dei?" My hands begin to quake at the thought. The organization that had sent Silas to slaughter my grandfather for an unknown reason still brings shivers when I think about them. Mute, I nod. He looks down at me, crimson eyes meeting brown, and one pale finger touches my shoulder, a quiet apology. "Now imagine Opus Dei a thousand times worse." My eyes must be as big as dinner plates. Gasping, I look around the room wildly. Richter looks solemn, Father Patrick looks stoic, Silas looks grave, and I'm on the verge of hyperventilating. _ Oh my God they're dead._ I realize. _We have no hope of saving the preferiti. They're going to die and we can't stop it!_ Tears begin to form in my eyes, and I stare at the floor to cover them. The phone rings with a short bring-bring, and Commander Richter spins to answer it. He speaks in hushed tones, but when he hangs up, he looks a bit less solemn. "Professor Robert Langdon is on his way here." He says. My head lifts.

_Professor Langdon?_


	6. SORRY

**i cannot believe i'm doing this. normally i hate it when writers do this but i feel like i owe it to you guys. here is the rundown:**

**Chapter six is in construction at this moment. unfortunately i hit a severe case of writer's block and that is why i have not been on. also, i had to watch Angels & Demons again to remember some stuff. Bandcamp has been a killer. but I'm on Week Two, Baby, and I finish Thursday. Which gives me one last week of summer to upload as much as i can before school starts. see you guys soon, i swear. So Sorry!**


	7. sophie's fainting episode

**hello lovelies! guess what? it's here! Im gonna keep this short and sweet; R&R, subscribe, leave a comment. I don't own the RL series!**

**hope you enjoy!**

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**Chapter six**

**_SOPHIE'S POV_**

_Why is the Professor on his way here?_ I don't realize the words have left my mouth until Richter answers me. "He's coming because we have just received a fax bearing the same word as the one on the paper you hold in your hand and because a priest was just killed in his laboratory while working on antimatter. The Professor has been alerted to this and will be here shortly along with a woman named Vittoria Vetra." The information crowds my brain. My senses are overloading and my head is spinning. I can't get enough oxygen. Have you ever heard the saying too much information makes your brain choke? That was what was happening to me, right now. My brain was choking on all the information it was receiving. _The Pope is dead, the Illuminati have attacked the church, the preferiti have been stolen, sentenced to death, and now we are on a race against time to save them. A priest who must have also been a scientist has been murdered in his laboratory and now the Swiss Guard is receiving a fax bearing the word ILLUMINATI. Professor Langdon has been summoned here to-help, I guess, and he's bringing a woman with him named Vittoria Vetra._

_"Quai?" (_**A/N **_What?) _l whispered aloud. My head spun again, more violently than before, and the next thing I know, I am shrouded in blackness.

**_SILAS' POV_**

****"_Quai?" _I hear, and look over at Sophie. Her face is pale and lips bloodless. Although very little fazes her, this is enough gruesome information to make anyone feel dizzy. So, let's be honest, I'm not surprised to see her like this. However, once her pupils shrink to mere dots and her breathing becomes fast, I worry. Hurrying over to her, I catch her as she begins to collapse and it's easy for me to swing her limp body into my arms. Sighing, I look down at her. _Poor girl._ Across the room, the Camerlengo rises from his chair, his lips already uttering her name. Commander Richter sits impassively in his own seat and makes no move to help. _Bastard. _ I think the word before I can help myself. "Is there a place I can take her?" I ask, as a blonde haired, mousy faced attendant hurries into the room. "Oh my." He says, moves toward me, "do you need me to take her to an infirmary?" _no thanks._ Almost reflexively, I hold her a bit tighter. "I can take her myself, thank you. Can you point me in the right direction?" The mousy-faced man gives a quick nod and turns to the Commander. "Commander Richter, the Professor and Dr. Vetra have arrived." Richter rises from his chair. "Take me to them." He commands, and gives the blonde man the no nonsense look of _i-could-care-less-that-girl-fainted-take-me-to-the m-before-i-fire-you._ The poor man stutters out an apology to me, and the Camerlengo says, "That's quite alright, I can take them there." He nods, and we go our separate ways. Patrick leads me down the hall. "Poor thing." He says quietly, looking at the limp girl in my arms. "It must have been all the pressure." _Very true._ I nod. There's a soft moan, and she begins to stir. I tighten my hold and slow my pace before I drop Sophie. Her head lifts. "Silas?" she asks, looking up at me. I smile at her. "You fainted." I explain. "Oh." She looks a bit unsettled for a moment, and then says. "You don't have to carry me. I can walk." _Not a chance,_ I think to myself, and tighten my grip more. She seems confused. "Sophie." Patrick says as we resume walking, "it's just a safety thing. Besides, we're almost there." She sighs, but slips her arm around me anyways. "Thanks." She mumbles head down, hiding her mortification. We reach the door and walk inside. I set her on the side of the bed and stand next to her. "Are you okay?" I ask, and she smiles. "I'm fine, Silas. I don't know what happened, but I swear, I'm fine." A nurse hurries over, and begins taking Sophie's pulse. Behind me, I can hear Patrick explaining, "She fainted. We just wanted to be careful." They begin speaking softly, and all the while I just stand by the bed, holding her hand. The nurse shoos me out of the way, then follows me to the door like a mother hen protecting her chick. To my surprise, I even see Patrick being pushed out, too. As the door slams behind us, I turn to look at him. "What just happened?" I ask. "Very strict doctor/patient confidentiality here." He says. "Come on, she'll be fine. I told the doctor we'd be in my chambers and to send her on her way when they're done." He begins to stride down the corridor into the direction of his rooms. Wordlessly, I follow. "We have to call Them, don't we?" I say. He nods. "It's unnatural for this to happen. She's never fainted like this before, and it might mean trouble. The _you-know-what _needs to know, just in case."

_I just hope they don't blame me, _I think to myself, remembering their open disgust for me living with the Sangreal; considering my history with the Holy Grail and its keeper, I wasn't surprised. But Robert Langdon had approved, and here was Sophie, three days later, with ragged hair, bloodshot eyes, a tear stained face (she told me later she'd cried on the plane from fear and sadness) and the attitude of a polite young French girl towards Patrick, almost open hostility towards me. She had warmed up towards me later on, and now, she even called me her best friend. The Priory of Scion, however, though their ward loved me, they resented me. As we neared the room, I dreaded the words that would cross over the speaker on the phone.

_Please don't blame me. _Because if they truly believed it was my fault, who was to stop them from taking Sophie away?

_Please don't take her away._


	8. Patrick's worries

**This chapter is short. Pleassse forgive me. however, I'd like to extend a HUGE thanks to all the people who reviewed and followed this story in the time I have not uploaded!  
SHOUT OUT TIME!**

**ICANHEARTHEDRUMS: Poor Silas indeed. He's overreacting, I thought it would be funny to have a normally stoic monk be facing internal turmoil on Sophie and the _you-know-what. _;)  
**

**TEAPOT OF TRANSFORMATION: Hey, thank you very much! :) She's ill... of a sort. I don't want to post any spoilers, but let's just say I kind of needed a reason to get her alone. And if I say anything else, Imma ruin the whole story for you. Thanks for the support, hope you enjoy!  
**

**PARADOX: He's so adorable when he's sweet, isn't he? He's a HUUGE softie when it comes to that girl. Probably because she called him an angel once. :) Thank you so much! I'll try, I promise.  
**

**ROLAND5021: ****Thank you :'). Inferno is amazing, right? It's SUCH a good book. I like how he does that too. Our Professor Langdon certainly is a ladies' man, isn't he? Thank you for the compliment! I really wanted an Angels and Demons story but I had to have Silas and Sophie in it. I just NEEDED them in there. I'll send you a message if I ever have need of you! ;D  
**

**Thank you, lovely Followers, for being beautiful and sending this girl some love. i am eternally grateful.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE ROBERT LANGDON SERIES. :(**

**its a fact i have to face every time i wake up. **

**ONWARD, AOSHIMA!**

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**Chapter seven**

**_PATRICK'S POV_**

Silas seems unnaturally quiet as we head towards my chambers. Well, I mean, for a man who rarely speaks a word. Normally, he exudes an air of confidence, of normality, of even danger at times when he walks with his peculiar loping gait, courtesy of the _cilice _that he still wears around his thigh. Today, though, he walks like a man who is afraid. Though his head is still high, his eyes appear broken. _He's thinking of something awful._ I think to myself. I open my mouth to ask. "Silas, you okay?" but the words never pass my lips. He speaks first. "What do you think they're going to say?" He asks, voice rough and French accent thicker than I am used to. I shrug. "Who knows? This is the _you know what _ we're talking about. They'll probably spout some nonsense that will fly over our heads." This was not entirely untrue. We would not be talking to the Grand Master, Mrs. Suniere, who had assumed the position since the death of Jacques, who spoke in unrushed tones and in a calm, clear voice, and made every bloodline related thing we had to know extremely simple. We would, however, probably be talking to her secretary, who thought we knew more than we did and always forgot to explain, normally leaving us more confused after the question than we were before. Not to mention, the man was always quick to pull the blame trigger on Silas. The monk normally put up with the abuse in the same stony face he always did, but today, I worried that something might happen. Between the Pope's death, Illuminati's strike, Sophie's faint, the nurse not allowing us to be near her afterwards, and the now-broken look in his eyes, to say I had faith that all would go well during this phone call would be a complete and utter _ lie._

Lying is a sin.

And that is precisely the reason why I kept my mouth shut as we reached my chambers. The door swung open under my touch and we silently moved to the Pope's office, where no ears would hear our voices.

And even though I was confident in my abilities to speak with the Priory of Scion, even I could not stop my fingers from trembling slightly as I punched in the numbers.

* * *

Time skip: a half hour

It is now 6 O'clock pm

* * *

**_PATRICK'S POV_**

It's six in the evening, and Sophie still hasn't come back from the infirmary. Although I know she's with people who will keep her safe, I still can't stop myself from becoming worried. Silas and I wait in my chambers, near the door. Having just received the call from Commander Richter's secretary; who told us "The Commander, Professor Langdon, and Vittoria Vetra are on their way down," we wait in silence. Three raps on the door call us out of our reverie, and I exchange a glance with Silas. Despite the verbal abuse the poor monk just put up with, he still manages to look calm, even supportive, as he looks at me. I give him a half smile, he quirks his lips in response, and moves so that he's sitting on a couch. Now, when they enter, those who are unaccustomed to seeing the monk will be less surprised by his presence. Steeling myself, I remind myself that _remember, you are the one in charge of this Church. The Pope is dead and your family is threatened. Be strong. You have to be strong! _Taking a deep breath once more, I set my hand on the heavy brass knob and begin to pull.

What lies for me on the other side, I have no idea.


	9. THE ASSASSIN AND HUNTER

Hello friends! happy September! I added a new character in this story today, just so you know. I had a good idea with him.

I DO NOT OWN THE ROBERT LANGDON SERIES BUT DEAR GOD ALMIGHTY DO I WISH I DID.

* * *

**Chapter eight**

**_THIRD PERSON POV_**

**_IN AN UNKNOWN AREA_**

****Where he stood in the shadow of the Church of Illumination, the assassin anxiously checked his watch. It was 6:15, and Hunter, his associate, still hadn't returned. _What is taking him so long?_ He checked his watch again and snarled under his breath. _Damnation! It hasn't even been two minutes! _Scowling at the passerby, he pushed himself off the wall and began sulking through the archway, heading down towards the cells. _Might as well check on the Preferiti while I wait. And I need to get the fire started so the brand can heat as well as check for any more messages. _Dialing his phone for his absent teammate, he slipped through the wall recess and made his way down the dimly lit hallways. He knew these passageways so well by now that he didn't even need a flashlight. The reception was surprisingly good for being underneath tons of stone and descending deeper into the underground and Hunter picked up on the fourth ring. "Hey." The younger male's voice came clear without a hint of static. The assassin scowled harder and said "what's taking you so long? You were supposed to be back at six."

"It's kind of difficult to get to the target right now, you know." Hunter replied tersely. "It's being kept under lock and key. Besides, that god damn monk wouldn't leave it alone and by the time those two were ushered out I had to wait for the rest of the staff to leave the room."

"Well, is the room empty or what? Hunter, you don't even need a car to get down to the cells. Just grab it and go." The assassin ground his teeth. As much as he loved this kid, Hunter got on his nerves more times than he could count.

"But it's not that simple!" the seventeen year old boy began to whine. "You're not giving me enough time. We still have two hours. It'll be in the Castle by the time you need to roll out, I swear. Besides, I can't blow my cover with the Priory, and the Camerlengo just called up a while ago. He was worried about Nevu, and he could've decided he needed to come and visit her again. I want to make sure the target makes it out of here without anyone noticing and a burden like that can't be concealed in a briefcase." Hunter pointed out. The younger male blew his hair out of his eyes in frustration. "Aw _Shit!"_ he hissed into the phone. "I've gotta go, man, I've gotta go now! It's Commander Richter. He looks like he's pissed and I need to get out of here 'cause the Camerlengo and that Opus dei bastard are with him. They'll recognize me! See you soon man, see ya!" The phone went silent except for the droning buzz of a disconnected call. The assassin hung up the phone calmly. He reached the door and slid inside. Standing in the center of the row of cells, he surveyed the room. _One, two, three, four preferiti. _Ignoring the muffled prayers of the men around him, he went to the canisters and made sure the powder was correct. "Conclave will go on without us." A man's voice broke through his thoughts. Stony faced, the assassin turned to look at the men behind him, a match twitching in his fingers. "May God forgive you for what you've done." Another added, and then kissed the rosary in his hands. Despite trying his hardest, the assassin felt his face twitch. The beginnings of a smile. "I don't think God cares, Father." He says, quietly, amused, enjoying the fear on the older man's face. "And if He has a problem with anything about me, it won't be with what I've done. It'll be with what I'm about to do." Still enjoying the shell shocked look on the Cardinal's face, he struck the match and lit the tinder on fire, then tossed the contents into the stocked fireplace. Moving smoothly, almost gracefully, he picked up the first brand and laid it in the dancing flames almost lovingly.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

**_HUNTER'S POV_**

Hunter adjusted the bundle in his arms carefully. _In this uniform,_ he thought as he strode down the halls, getting closer to the Church of Illumination with every step,_ I should look like an altar boy carrying out the trash._ But still, he tried to stick to the shadows. He didn't want to be caught by a priest or worse, Vatican Police. _Aha!_ Reaching the door, he laid the bundle, carelessly wrapped in a sheet, down on the floor and unlocked the door by turning the heavy brass keys. After opening the door just enough for him to slip through, he relocked the door and left the keys in the exact same position as he had found them. _One thing I love about this door, _Hunter thought, _is that if locked while open, it will close fully and still be locked. Fewer complications for me._ Scooping up the bundle again, trying to be as gentle as possible, he slipped through the door and pulled it shut behind him. It closed with a soft thump and he began to hurry through the halls. It didn't take him long to reach the cells, where the older man stood, hands casually in his pockets, empty cell door already open for him. Hunter game him a grim smile and stepped into the small room. The assassin walked in behind him and stood silently, hands still in his pockets, a strange half smile on his handsome face. Hunter knelt on the ground and began unwrapping the sheet. As the form of the target below began to take place, he marveled again at the drug that had been administered to it. _That stuff works really fast, huh?_ The last sheet was taken off, and he lifted the target onto a cotton bed in the small room. With the same graceful steps he had inherited from his father, he crossed the room, shut the cell door, and locked it. The brown haired, feathery headed boy ignored the curious stares from the Cardinals and removed his alter server clothes, revealing a jeans and a plain black shirt. Then facing his father, he straightened up and waited for the words that would come next. The assassin peered inside the cell. "got her, huh?" he says, removing his glasses and wiping his face off. "good. While I go take care of number one," he motioned to the preferiti, "you stay here. If she wakes up, don't say anything, don't do anything. When I get back," he grinned. "We can start the party."

Hunter nodded. Once more he looked at the still form of Sophie Nevu, lying unconscious in the cell far below the Vatican where her Camerlengo and guardian monk would soon be searching for her.

He wondered how much it would affect her when she found out she was the daughter of

Christ.

Hunter hoped it would break her inside, because he really, _really, _didn't want to do the other option.

He loved her too much.


End file.
